Issue 44: It Could Never Have Been Linet
The Israeli-Turkish diva wowed audiences, but the Eurovision competition has never been about being the best
I have a confession to make: I recently fell in love with the Eurovision Song Contest. Not because the music is good. Usually it isn’t. No, I enjoy Eurovision because it is quirky, bold, and unavoidably political. I watch the all-night affair and try guessing how countries will vote for the various contestants based on the contemporary politics of Europe at that particular point in time. Perhaps this is a minority opinion, but I believe that Netflix’s Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga (starring Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams) was one of the best comedic pieces released during the pandemic. The film was such a perfect parody of the real competition that one of the film’s songs, “Husavik”, was nominated for an Oscar, and in 2021 Iceland’s official Eurovision votes were announced by Olaf Yohansson, who played a character from the movie popularly known as the “Ja-Ja Ding Dong Guy”. So in case this is the first time you’ve ever heard about the contest, I hope I’ve successfully summarized how its circus-like atmosphere is equal parts laughably excessive and incredibly entertaining. Eurovision might be the best of bad theatre.
Why am I bringing this up? Well, Israel has a rich and colorful history in the Eurovision competition, and recently a new chapter was written that I felt obligated to address.
Israel isn’t physically located in Europe, but nothing about Eurovision makes actual sense and so Israel is among a group of non-continental nations (including Australia!) that regularly participate in the event. Since 1973, Israel has sent a representative 43 times, hosted the event three times (in 1979, 1999, and 2019) and won four times (1978, 1979, 1998, and 2018). For this reason, the Eurovision Song Contest is a beloved event for Israelis who take pride in being represented - and often succeeding - at a celebrated international event.
Participating countries can chose their Eurovision representatives in a variety of ways, and throughout the years Israel has employed various national song competitions to determine who would earn the high honor of performing a likely mediocre song not in their native tongue at an arguably fixed international event.
I usually don’t have time for live television, and don’t normally pay attention to anything Eurovision related prior to the actual event (I watch, I laugh, I cry, I go to bed and don’t think about it again), but a few weeks ago I heard that one of the contestants - Linet Menaşi - had a Turkish background and naturally I became curious.
Apparently I wasn’t alone. When I first clicked on the YouTube link of Linet’s opening song, it had a couple hundred thousand views. Today it has over 1.5 million (in a country with a population of only 9 million). She must have done something special.
Her voice sounded familiar and I was trying to figure out why. And then it dawned on me (because I don’t watch television and I didn’t watch the entire episode) that this was THE Linet, highly regarded in Turkey and the region as one of the best contemporary arabesque singers.
Born in Israel to Turkish-Jewish immigrants (her mother, Leyla Özgecan/Leya Bonana, was also an accomplished musical artist), Linet was a rising star in the 1980s. But after falling short of representing Israel at the Eurovision Song Contest in the 1990s, Linet relocated to Istanbul where she found a more captive audience to her style. Although she occasionally produced songs in Hebrew and performed alongside some of Israel’s greatest artists, her brand flourished in Turkey.
Linet’s performance blew away the judges - some of whom know her personally all of whom were familiar with her reputation - and the audience alike. She was being asked to sing covers of popular Israeli songs. In fact, her adaptations were sometimes better than the originals. And then, craving more, the judges coaxed Linet to sing in both Turkish and Hebrew, arguably her strongest suit.
After years of performing in front of audiences elsewhere in the Middle East, Linet had finally “come home”. And her reemergence touched some raw nerves. Israel remains a country of immigrants. That means some people still a strong connection to a far away lands, while others may just feel out of place within the context of a reimagined and evolving Israeli society. Linet’s story served as a reminder of the ongoing dialogue between cultural spaces, and that the bridges between Israel and the region remain quite strong no matter the changing geopolitical realities. In the last decade Israel-Turkey relations experienced a swift and bitter decline, however as Louis Fishman correct pointed out the reaction by Israelis and Turks to Linet’s performance suggests that diplomatic disputes belie the commonalities between both societies.
At the same time, Linet’s swift rise also exposed her - perhaps for the first time - to critics, who pointed to her past performance at events with an anti-Israeli agenda as well as claims about her skipping mandatory IDF service. These tabloid headlines produced minimal waves in Israel, but were a reminder of the obstacles artists often face when they their personal choices don’t match the the politics of the moment.
Linet was eventually ousted in the quarterfinal round, and a great many viewers were crushed by the result. In my totally non-expert opinion it makes perfect sense. Linet’s her vocal talents were the best in the competition by a long shot, and that means she had no business at Eurovision. Because Eurovision isn’t about being the best. Don’t ask me what it is about, I honestly don’t know.
To complete my praise for Linet, which may have been the sole purpose of this week’s newsletter, I am sharing her performance of Yalnız Değilsin- Homot Heimar (Walls of Clay) with the Jerusalem East&West Orchestra. The song, designed as a call for solidarity with oppressed women around the world, combines Turkish lyrics by Günay Çoban and Hebrew lyrics by Rachel Shapira.
Yalnız Değilsin- Homot Heimar (You Are Note Alone - Walls of Clay)
All women smell Paradise
In this apocalypse of a world
They write a heartfelt epic
And they bloom with purpose
Beautiful woman, you are my sister
You are not alone in this story
Even if you fall a thousand time
Do not give up - get up - this life is yours
Walls of Clay confine you
Little sister, pity on you
Walls of Clay, drought seasons
Little sister, you are not being careful
Rejected lamb, disgrace of the herd
You are insane, you are wrong
You don’t give up, you are crazy
What do you know about Walls of Clay?
Thorny eyes follow you
Arrows chase you
Someone like you is enemy fire,
Lament the tribe women
Little sister, save yourself
You can’t knock down Walls of Clay
You don’t give up, you are crazy
What do you know about Walls of Clay?
The song is a call against the restrictions upon women in many traditional societies. The woman in the song tries to break free from those walls, and in doing so her actions undermine the foundation of her society and her community tries to stop her from breaking free. Shapira’s lyrics, written in the early 1990s and married to the lyrical talents of Margalit Tzanani (one of the X Factor judges), is as powerful today as it was then.
I hope you find this week’s content engaging. Please feel free to share this newsletter with others and don’t hesitate to reach out.
Gabi